


Underpinning

by Nice_Valkyrie



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nice_Valkyrie/pseuds/Nice_Valkyrie
Summary: It's simple on the surface: two friends meeting up for drinks. But Becca knows there's often more between her and Riza than meets the eye.





	Underpinning

**Author's Note:**

> likeadeuce's [Nothing to Say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/662209) definitely provided some inspiration for this fic, so check that one out too if you haven't already.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Riza’s voice sounded tinny and thin through the connection of the telephone line. “Can you repeat that?”

“Sure,” said Becca. “Can I come up to see you in Central tomorrow night?”

There was silence.

“Or are you busy? If you’re too busy, it’s fine.”

“I should have some free time,” said Riza’s voice, slow and deliberate.

Becca leaned against the wall and smoothed back a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “Great! What time does the President let you clock out?”

“I can meet you at half past six.” She named a bar Becca vaguely recalled from a trip a few months ago, and then, after a few more oddly stiff pleasantries, hung up.

Becca frowned at the receiver in her hand. There was something off about Riza’s voice, a tension that couldn’t be explained by her usual professionalism, or even the sarcasm that so often hovered just below the surface. She had sounded…stressed. Maybe Becca was only making things worse by interrupting Riza’s routine. Maybe she should call back and cancel…

But then she realized, with a twinge of self-pity, that it was more likely Riza had somehow picked up on the unspoken hope and promise in Becca’s suggestion through the telephone wires, and had been trying to gracefully turn her down.

So there were two flutters in Becca’s stomach for the next twenty-four hours, two anxieties at war with each other. The time passed all too quickly, or possibly not quickly enough—it was hard for Becca to tell because of how her guts were constantly knotting and unknotting themselves, a process that had an immediate uptick in speed once she spotted Riza on the train platform in Central. Riza looked—there was no other word for it— _hot_. Her skirt was tight against the curves of her hips and ass, even though it went down past her knees, and the short sleeves of her shirt showed off her muscular arms.

This certainly wasn’t a professional outing, though Riza’s shirt did look suspiciously like a standard-issue under-uniform turtleneck. Becca silently reaffirmed her decision to wear her favorite green dress, cut to show only a little cleavage, if she wore the right brassiere. The outfit always made her feel confident, like someone who wouldn’t fall apart at the sight of her best friend in a slinky skirt.

Things weren’t exactly better once they had settled themselves at the bar. Had Becca been a weaker woman, she would have found it hard to concentrate on Riza’s stories of the endless meetings and social events she had to arrange for Fuhrer Bradley. Riza’s belt sat beautifully at her hips, so that the curve of her abs was just visible though her thin black shirt. That wasn’t fair. She didn’t even know if Riza was still interested. Of course, they were probably going to be sharing Riza’s bed, since the woman had never owned a couch, but—

Well, Becca was doing the best she could with the strength she had.

Eventually Riza’s anecdotes came to an end, and Becca noticed again the slight paleness, the pinching between the eyebrows, the determined set of the jaw. “So,” said Riza, her voice low. “Why did you really want to meet?”

The wine had made a pleasant, calming warmth inside her, and that dulled the shock, though not the sudden tightness between her legs. But Becca still wasn’t ready to blurt it out like that. “Huh? Bradley’s keeping you awfully busy lately, I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

But Riza’s frown had only deepened. She looked like she was trying to read Becca’s mind. Becca tapped her lightly on the shoulder, trying to ignore the jolt the contact sent through her. “What is it? You’re acting really weird. Is something wrong?”

Riza laughed, but it was more frustration than anything else. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to speak our language.”

And then understanding clicked into place—and _fuck_ , Becca felt like the most incompetent person in the world. “No, oh, oh no, Riza, I don’t have any _gossip_.” She hadn’t used that code word in her call, had she? “Nothing to pass along!”

“I thought—sometimes things change so fast…” Riza’s smile was painful to look at, splitting her face and giving her eyes a bizarre look like wet glass. “You don’t—need anything?”

“No! I just wanted to see you!” Becca groaned. “God, no wonder you’ve been so stiff! I thought you were trying to tell me”—she censored herself hastily—“tell me that you didn’t want to meet up, or something.”

And after that, though Becca was still all too aware of the exhaustion in Riza’s eyes, the unease was gone, and they were talking and laughing like they always had, like they had seen each other just yesterday; and Becca let herself feel hopeful again.

But by the time they left the bar, Riza still hadn’t given any indication she wanted anything more than a night of drink and chatter, and Becca’s alcohol-induced confidence had begun to recede, panic returning in its place. She had misread the situation, hadn’t she? Nothing was going to happen. Well, at least she hadn’t acted on any of those thoughts. She hadn’t made a move or asked Riza, _hey, are we going to take each other’s clothes off tonight?_ There could be minimal embarrassment. She stood a safe distance away as Riza unlocked the door of her apartment.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” she said, for probably the third time, as she stepped out of her shoes and tried not to look at the space where a couch would be.

“Now who’s acting weird?”

Riza rolled her shoulders, and the movement of muscle under soft skin made Becca’s mouth water. Riza caught her looking, and—

She—

—smirked.

The fire that had been smoldering all night in Becca’s belly suddenly flared to life. She swallowed hard. All right, time to be bold. “I didn’t want to say it back there, but…you know, maybe there _is_ something else I want.”

And Riza went attentive again, her jaw set, shoulders square, ready for whatever crucial piece of espionage Becca had.

Becca could only laugh. “I love you, Riza, but you are so dense.”

Riza’s eyes went wide, and then even wider as Becca leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

For one horrible, agonizing second, Becca thought she had made a mistake.

Then— “Oh,” said Riza, and then, “ _oh_ ,” and she started kissing back.

A giggle bubbled up in Becca’s throat. She couldn’t help it: thrill and relief were such _better_ reasons for her insides to be writhing. She managed to keep her composure and focused on keeping her lips soft instead of too eager, and on keeping her hands from shaking when she brought them up to Riza’s hips.  

“You taste good,” she mumbled.

“Mm.”

Slowly, they made their way to the bedroom, eyes closed, stepping carefully across the wooden floors. Halfway down the hall, there was a scuffle from Hayate’s kennel in the other room. Riza paused.

“Let him out,” Becca whispered. “We can shut the door.”

When it was done, they lay down facing each other. The kisses were faster now, harder and wetter, and Becca shivered as Riza’s hands made their way into new, more exciting territory. She ran her thumbs over the small swell of Becca’s stomach, and that almost tickled; but then she pressed harder and the touch made Becca go hot instead.

“You could take your dress off.”

“Good idea.”

When it had been tossed to the floor—along with the underthings, for good measure—Riza pressed Becca slowly onto her back, kissing at her goose-pimpled breasts. She had sensitive nipples, and as Riza put her mouth over one Becca felt the touch slither straight down between her legs. The licks were gentle at first, a soft flicking at the stiffened flesh, but soon enough Riza began to roll the nipple back and forth with smooth, wet pressure. Becca groaned, feeling it more and more in her clit, tightening and tightening and _burning_ —

“Too—too much,” she managed.

“Oh,” said Riza, with a little laugh. “Sorry. It’s just so much fun to watch you squirm.”

But then she sucked the nipple back into her mouth and began again even harder, scraping her teeth. Becca jerked away. “Riza, seriously, cut that out!”

Riza pulled back. Her lips trembled; and then Becca saw that look again, the frightened uncertainty that was so unlike her friend.

For the second time that night, sudden understanding came crashing down on Becca.

“Hey. Wait—we don’t—don’t worry, we don’t have to do anything. If you don’t want to.” It felt strange to say, since she was already naked, but she was determined that Riza understand. She reached out her hand. “I just want us to have a nice time. Relax a little.”

Riza took a deep breath, and her eyebrows, as Becca watched, slowly unknit themselves. She could almost see the emotion melting away, or at least being subsumed. Riza’s tight frown relaxed and gave way to a smile, and this time it was the calm little curve of her lips Becca knew so well. “Sorry. I guess I got a little too excited.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Becca stroked Riza’s shoulder before flashing her sauciest grin. “Besides, if you want to make me squirm, I can think of better ways.”

“Oh? Care to enlighten me? I’m too dense, remember?”

“You’re awful.” She brushed Riza’s hair away from her face. “Awful.”

“I’ll just have to figure it out on my own, then.” Riza kissed over the underside of Becca’s breast as she worked at her own skirt with one hand. She paused to slide it off, removing her panties with it. Becca swallowed hard and reached for the exposed stomach, but Riza blocked the touch with her own shoulder, moving back up.  

“There’s no rush, right?”

On to the second breast, more delicately than before, mouthing at the soft flesh and sucking quiet and tender. But that was worse, because Riza knelt with Becca’s thigh between her legs and settled over it; and then she rubbed, just a little, so that Becca could _feel_ the wetness there.

She didn’t want to whine, but she was pretty sure Riza wouldn’t object to begging. “God, Riza—please?”

Riza smiled to herself and let her teeth graze all shivery over Becca’s skin. She kissed down Becca’s stomach, down over the coarse dark hairs below her bellybutton she’d forgotten to pluck, past the red marks from her panties, and then—slid to the side to lick at the smear she had left on Becca’s thigh.

“Terrible,” Becca gasped.

But it was easier to bear the kisses Riza settled into, firm and sucking over the inner thigh. Or maybe Riza was growing impatient, too, because soon enough she had moved in and closer, nudging her nose against the trimmed dark hairs and inhaling deeply.

“Mm.” A different noise this time, appreciative and calm, somehow, and then Becca didn’t have time to think about what was going through Riza’s mind anymore, because Riza was pushing back the hood of Becca’s clit and pressing in with her tongue.

“Aw, fuck—”

It had been too long without anybody, and even longer without Riza, but she seemed to remember all the things Becca liked. She traced light circles over Becca’s clit; then, following her encouragement, made the touch deeper and harder. After Becca’s legs were twitching uncomfortably, Riza switched the motion to soft vertical licks, with a curl at the top of the clit that made Becca tense and curse with each pass. “Not going to make me work very hard, are you?” Riza said, dragging the tip of her tongue in lazy swipes.

“Oh—” Coherence, that would be nice, Becca wasn’t going to come _that_ fast, was she? “—oh, you’ll work for it, Riza Hawkeye.”

She wanted to touch Riza’s hair, but Riza seemed to sense that urge, because she pinned Becca’s wrists to the bed. She sucked the hood of Becca’s clit into her mouth and teased at it, and between her lips and her tongue and her teeth that was it, Becca was gasping and jerking her hips as she came.

Then she was lying there with her mouth open like a fish’s, with Riza and her wonderful tongue still between her legs.

“Wow.”

Riza laughed. She didn’t sit up, though, just rested her head against Becca’s thigh and gave her a few more cautious, shiver-inducing licks.

“Let me do you,” said Becca.

She had less patience than Riza, but she didn’t think she was going to have to exercise much restraint. And she was right: when Riza lay back, Becca could already see the way she was glistening between lips begging to be parted. Two fingers slid in easily. Riza had always liked penetration more, but Becca chanced an exploratory lick, just in case something had changed. Riza flinched in the way that meant it still wasn’t good. So Becca only licked her thumb and rubbed it delicately against the hood of Riza’s clit to urge her on as she worked the two fingers inside her.

“Three,” Riza demanded, and Becca complied.

Riza’s eyes were closed, and even though her eyebrows were still knitted together it was a different kind of frustration. Becca wanted to ease that tension. But her wrist was starting to cramp, and she was beginning to doubt her own ability to help. She was hoping it would be enough, please, let it be enough—and then Riza made a funny, wonderful choking little moan and clenched hard again and again on Becca’s fingers.

Becca crawled up beside her. Her body hummed pleasantly and her head felt light and bubbly. “Feel better?”

Riza snorted, though it trailed off into a soft, content sigh. “What are you talking about?”

She wasn’t as difficult to read as she thought; not to Becca, anyway, who could tell Riza was really saying, _How did you know?_

She slid her hand—the other hand, the clean one—over Riza’s and squeezed. “Thanks for tonight. I needed that.”

And, after a few quiet seconds and a slow breath, Riza squeezed back.

 


End file.
